Galra Paws
by KillerGeishaYumi
Summary: Modernfic, Keith is a werewolf and Lance is the hapless roommate who has to take care of him. Might update later, especially if people want to see more, but it's going up now so here it is.


_**Author's Note:** after watching "Dirty Paws" by Karina Farek, I immediately went looking for the fanfiction putting Keith and Lance in the same situation and could not understand why it didn't exist. So I wrote it myself. Enjoy!_

* * *

Lance woke up to his headphones being pulled off, a finger tugging at the corner of his sleeping mask, and Keith's voice somehow pulling off both snarky and crooning at the same time.

"Hey, wake up."

Lance's first thought was, _too early, go away_…but as he pried an eye open to peek at Keith past the intruding finger, he decided it was light enough out that no, it wasn't too early. He smiled sleepily at his roommate and crooned back, "G'morning, puppy."

Keith rolled his eyes and let the sleeping mask snap back into place. "Don't call me that…get up already, I made your favorite."

Lance sat up, yawned, and pulled the mask off as he stretched. "Thanks, man." He turned—and blinked at the calendar, with today's date circled in red and the words FULL MOON scrawled inside the circle. "Oh. Big day today, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah…"

* * *

For being a "big day," not much happened. Keith and Lance both had the day off, and they just stayed home; Keith didn't even go to the gym for training, instead working on his bike in the garage most of the day and playing video games with Lance the rest of the time.

Their skills were close enough that victory could go to either of them and only after an intense neck-and-neck struggle—so when Lance beat Keith much too easily at about nine that evening, he had a strong suspicion why. "Now?"

Keith looked up from where he was slumped listlessly against the couch; his eyes were a faint gold instead of their typical deep violet, and fangs were just beginning to poke out of his mouth.

Yup, it was time: he was entering phase one of his transformation, which Lance had long ago labeled "fuzzy mind" based on Keith's behavior. Much longer and he wouldn't be rational enough to cooperate with being restrained. Lance offered his hand, and after a moment Keith took it.

Keith was slow on the way up the stairs to the designated safe room. Poking fun at him while he was like this was risky, but Lance being Lance, he couldn't resist. "Do you need me to carry you, puppy?"

"_Stop_," Keith snarked back almost lazily—still mostly normal, for now, but Lance could imagine the snarl and flattened-back ears of the beast in the shadow.

* * *

"Silver? Seriously?"

"You broke my favorite lamp last time," Lance pointed out, and grinned cheekily at the grumpy and mostly naked young man he was currently chaining to the wall—with, yes, silver. "One month the lamp, the next month might be me." He secured the lock.

"I would never," Keith objected, a touch of indignation peeking through the haze.

Lance sat back on his heels and considered Keith, taking a moment to be serious. "Do you need a pillow, or something? I can put one down for you…"

Keith made a dismissive noise, "I'm fine," then he growled a bit and tensed in pain as his eyes blazed a brighter yellow for a moment.

Phase two: muscle spasms as Keith's body reshaped.

Lance brushed Keith's bangs out of his eyes and stood up. "Well, holler if you need anything." He heard a low growl as he walked away.

* * *

It never felt right to Lance, just leaving Keith to suffer alone. Back when they first moved in together, he'd asked Shiro about it—the older man was the only person Lance knew who had ever witnessed the change—and the answer he'd gotten was a very adamant DON'T.

"_A werewolf mid-shift is infinitely more dangerous than your typical wounded animal: instead of merely having a limb that doesn't work properly, his entire body has difficulty functioning when it isn't fully human or werewolf. As a result, he's much more aggressive and has a much harder time recognizing friends. Keith is willing to change around me because he's known me for a very long time, so the wolf remembers that I'm a friend even when he considers himself vulnerable. He's only known you a couple of years. Don't put yourself in that position."_

When Lance complained about how _wrong_ it was to let him suffer in that room alone all night, Shiro had sighed and admitted that once the shifting period was over, werewolf-Keith was no more dangerous than a stray dog. Don't make any sudden moves, stay out of range of his teeth, and for Heaven's sake don't make him feel cornered, and he was safe to be around.

* * *

When howling drew Lance's attention out of the book he was trying to read, he reflected on that conversation. He'd sat in with his werewolf roommate many times since that conversation, and nothing bad ever happened; it was certainly a lot _quieter_ when werewolf-Keith had some company. Abandoning the book, he went upstairs.

Golden eyes locked on him as he crested the stairs, and Keith snarled at Lance.

Rolling his eyes, Lance walked right up to Keith—who was fighting his chains to no avail—and sat down carefully out of reach. And just looked at him.

For some reason Keith's werewolf form was almost entirely purple. Or maybe it was all purple and just the fur that was his mullet was darker purple?

Keith roared in his face.

"Shut up already!" Lance shouted back.

Keith made a startled noise and flattened his ears, looking sad at being scolded. Lance quickly kissed his nose—something he'd never have been able to get away with if Keith was a human—and the werewolf perked back up.

Werewolf-Keith communicated his emotions much easier than regular Keith.

* * *

When Lance's reading was interrupted again, it was by a wet nose snuffling his face. He'd gotten pillows for both of them so they could be more comfortable on the floor, but it seemed Keith wanted to go outside: he was peering at the window and making the _saddest_ face at Lance (human Keith would _never_ admit to using puppy-dog eyes in any form).

Lance groaned and hid his face in his book. "How can I say no to that face."

He unlocked the chains and watched Keith happily stretch his limbs out and circle the room. "Just…don't go running off—"

"_Grrl"—_CRASH!

Lance ducked reflexively, shielding his face. Then he glared at the wolf-sized hole in the window.

"…Again."

Now he had to go chasing Keith…but first he had to cover the window, or the house would be freezing when he got back.

* * *

A blanket and some tape later, Lance was done with his thrown-together repair job and ready to find his roommate. Almost as soon as he opened the front door, he found his first piece of evidence: a cat's bloody carcass.

This was not the first dead animal he'd found, but it never failed to rattle him. Looking around quickly to make sure no one was watching, he grabbed up the body (softly swearing about how gross it was) and hid it between the house and the shrubs.

Lance was sure Keith was hunting for him, or at least bringing meat home for later; if he waited around, Keith would show up again with something else and Lance could grab him. However, he didn't want to deal with a second dead animal, so he started walking.

"Hey Lance!"

Somehow, Lance didn't jump at Nyma's voice—but it was a near thing. He waved absently at her as she carried her trash to the curb.

"You're out late," she observed.

"Yeah…my dog got out again." _If Keith ever hears me calling him that, he'll beat me into next week._

"Again?! Haven't you heard? Something's been killing pets around here. They've been putting out traps and everything!"

_Great, just what I didn't need: more incentive to find him quickly. _"Heh…yeah."

"Well, good luck finding him." Nyma put her bin down and straightened her long pigtails. "You oughta get a cat; Gidget wanders off every night, but she always comes home."

Lance tried to suppress his cringe as he remembered the cat he'd just hidden. Was that Gidget? He didn't pay nearly enough attention to his neighbors' pets. "…I'm gonna go."

"Good luck!" she called after him as he took off running.

Lance followed Keith's howls into the forest. It sounded like he'd made another successful kill…sure enough, when he looked down a small gully there was Keith, fiercely shaking some animal Lance didn't want to identify.

Suddenly Keith noticed Lance and looked up with the—that was a large rabbit—still in his mouth.

"Seriously, Keith?" Lance shouted down, "I don't need you to hunt for me, okay?"

Keith made a weird noise around the rabbit.

Lance jumped down. "And, you killed another cat? For real? Who does that?"

Keith dropped the rabbit.

Lance kept approaching, slowly and carefully. "Look, I know it's not easy, but it's been what, four years? Shouldn't you have some self-control by now?"

Keith sidled away from the rabbit and gave it a look, for all the world like he was saying, "what are you looking at?"

"Like, okay, you're a werewolf…but, you're human too. And you're not dumb, so…stop running off and killing things."

Keith did some sort of…full-body twitch, staring at something by Lance's feet. Then he refocused on Lance and growled again.

"It's scary," Lance admitted. He didn't like admitting to Keith's face—either of his faces—that anything he did might scare Lance. But it honestly sometimes did.

Like right now when Keith ran at him in what looked like full attack mode. Before Lance could make any attempt at dodging, the werewolf slammed into him hard and knocked him backward several feet.

Something gave a metallic clang, and Keith started…crying, was the word Lance was going to use. It was too loud to just be a whimper.

Fighting to get his breath back, Lance sat up and looked at Keith—and stared, horrified. Right where he'd been about to step was a large bear trap, and now Keith's foot was being held tight in its grasp.

Keith tried to kick it off and cried out again.

Disregarding every possible consequence of approaching a wounded werewolf, Lance scrambled forward to open the trap. After what felt like an eternity, he managed to force its jaws apart so Keith could pull his foot out and then turned to check on a growling and miserable werewolf.

Keith seemed to be fine…if a little confused that Lance was in easy biting range and afraid _for_ this thing that could rip his head off. Relieved, Lance hugged Keith…and after a moment furry paws lifted to hug him back.

When Keith was a little more up to walking, they started home.

* * *

Lance was _not_ chaining Keith back up when what he needed was some doting. He dragged the werewolf straight to his own bedroom and put him to bed, wrapping the injured foot carefully while Keith watched.

"There you go."

Keith settled into the pillow with a contented grunt.

Lance chuckled softly and settled down—on the edge of the bed, since Keith was taking up most of it. The plan was to wait until Keith was sleeping comfortably and then go do his nightly routines, but that went out the window when Keith reached out a paw and pulled Lance close like his personal body pillow. A surprise…but not an unpleasant one, Lance decided as he closed his eyes. Keith was very warm with all that fur, and the soft rumbles he was making were soothing in a way.

* * *

Morning came way too soon—with light streaming in the open curtains and with a very human Keith growling in discomfort. "Wake up Lance, it's your turn to make breakfast."

Lance rolled over and buried his face in Keith's mullet. "Just shut up already," he mumbled.

There were definitely implications to go over—like how Lance survived an up-close encounter with an injured werewolf-Keith, and why Keith didn't turn on sound-asleep Lance while he turned back (did Lance being asleep mean feral Keith didn't register him as a threat?)—but that was definitely a conversation for later. Lance was not a morning person, _especially_ after chasing a werewolf all night.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** The animation was a gay romance, and I suppose this could be read as such; I just see these two as close friends, but hey, interpret Lance's continued survival however you want._ 😉


End file.
